Calradia: On the Sea of Despair
by PhysicalGraffiti
Summary: After twenty years, the ravaged Nord Empire is recovering from a great war and the Nords are celebrating the only way they know how, through a bloody tournament of Calradia's best.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: When I first tried out Mount and Blade I sucked at the mechanics, but I learned to love the game. Looking through this site, I saw that there wasn't a plethora of stories on it even though it is such a versatile game with many possibilities. I hope it isn't too late for someone to read mine. Note that this isn't an After Action Report. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1

May 30

Tihr, Nord Empire

The gates opened to a thriving, crowded, and disgusting Tihr; a city populated mostly by the Nord's destitute and ruffians. Here I stood, after six months of training and most of my money spent on travel and protection. My name is Richter and I come from Kulum near the outskirts of the Nord Empire. I left my family to seek riches and fame that I can bring back to them and allow us to rise from our poor state of sharecroppers. I've always dreamed of owning my own farm near the fertile plains of Sargoth or opening a wares shop in Wercheg and that is what brought me to Tihr today.

Tihr is hosting its annual tournament for the entertainment of King Ragnar's vassals. Most of the finalists will be enlisted into the army, bought by one of the vassals to the highest bidder, armored, and knighted. Although the kingdom has been at peace for some years following a ceasefire with the Vaegirs, there has been talk of war among the taverns. Some drunks have claimed seeing the Vaegirs rearming the border and sending more men to their castles. I thought it was all foolish chatter, but I always felt a knot in my stomach and hoping my family will be alright.

Walking through the market district, I couldn't help but notice the large groups of people looking at weapons and armor. For most of the day, I couldn't find a single inn that had space. It seemed to me that there was going to be a lot of participants and a sudden nervousness came over me as I saw a group of heavily armored knights walk out of an inn. How am I supposed to beat knights with only six months of sword training while these people have been doing it all their lives?

By evening, I finally found a place to stay. The Sleeping Dragon it was called and it smelled worse than the city's sewer system. Located in the seediest part of town near the docks, I saw filth like no other. People dumped their excrements on the floor below where hungry, dirty children begged or stole from the hapless travelers who lost their way into this hell hole. I saw a person give a coin to a child and was swarmed by others in the vicinity. I kept a tight grip on my gold and sword. If one of the rascals even got an inkling of coming up to me with his grubby hands, I flashed my sword at him and kept going.

Every now and then you would hear a cacophony of hacking coughs. When I didn't have my hand on my sword's pommel, I held a handkerchief (a keepsake of my wife) to my mouth and nose.

I paid for the room and received a key. The innkeeper showed me the downstairs' lobby where they served a gruel-like substance for food and the bathroom, then, took me upstairs to see the room. He was a very fat man who moved quite agilely despite his girth. He told me I was going to be sharing with someone else and I told him I was fine with it.

The room was furnished sparingly, only two beds with a chest on the edge and a nightstand in between each other. A single candlestick stood on the small table which the innkeeper picked up and lit. "It seems your partner has gone out," he said, flashing me a toothy smile. "He'll most likely come back soon." He left, squeezing through the doorway and huffing down the stairs. I dropped my things in the chest and fell on the hard bed. Even the pillow felt as though it was made of wood.

I heard some rushed footsteps run up the stairs and suddenly there was some kid at my door. "Are you the one the innkeeper was talking about?" she said in between breaths. She walked over to the other bed and crossed her arms. "I was hoping for a female companion, another sword sister, not some dirty, perverted old man."

"Then, get another room," I said, turning over so I didn't have to look at her. She was a blonde who cut her hair very short and seemed to be at the peak of her maturity.

"I can't. All the other inns are full and even though I don't like it, it is better than sleeping out in the streets," she said. She stood and rummaged through her chest, cursing at the gods for the luck they gave her. She whispered something about losing money to street urchins and getting lost from her group. "Aha, found it!" I rolled over to see what she was talking about. In her hand was a deck of cards. "It's going to be awhile until the opening ceremony, care to play?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

June 15

Tihr, Nord Empire

A fortnight passed and I was stuck in the hot arena surrounded by other competitors. Most were young with barely any combat skills like me; folks who came from the farms for a bit of thrill. The rest were professionals. Sword sisters, hired mercenaries, knights, and some folks who looked as though they know their way around a blade shuffled their feet as they waited for King Ragnar to appear and start the opening ceremony.

People from all over the land crowded the seats. For most, this was the most people they have ever seen in their lives. It sure was mine and it was nauseating. The sound they made when the lord of the Nords appeared on the platform where he and his family sat to watch the games made the walls shake and the ground quake with their reverie. It was overpowering and I found myself looking for Hannah, the sword sister who was staying in the same room with me. I lost her in the crowd coming here and I was ashamed standing here scared like a trapped animal.

King Ragnar lifted his arms to call for silence, but only served to fuel the fervor of the masses. He left for a moment and returned with a hornsman to wail a shrill cry that cut through their shouts. When the masses calmed enough for the king to speak, he began. "Welcome warriors to Tihr and the Nordic Tournament. I see there are many of you from every part of the empire and many more who traveled from a far and through treacherous paths just to participate in this blood sport. I wish you all the best of luck as the gods can give and so we begin with the Ceremony. Be merry, for after the morrow, all of you will prove yourselves in battle."

The crowd returned to its loud cheering as a troop of minstrels played music while sirens danced to their tunes. The crowds started leaving, for the real parties were outside the arena. I started pushing for the exit when I felt a hand grip my shoulder. "Hey, you! Where did you go?" I turned to see Hannah puffing red and sweating from the heat.

"I was going to say the same to you," I laughed.

"Hey, let's go out and celebrate," she said stretching her arms, her breasts rising as she raised her arms over her head. I tore my gaze from her and looked at the people talking to each other. "A couple of my companions are gathering at the Dragon's Den for drinks. Do you want to come?"

"Uh, yea sure."

The Dragon's Den was a small bar near the arena. It was as clean a place as anything got around Tihr. The keeper was a bearded old man with a large scar running across his left cheek. He looked like he had seen more than his fair share of blood before settling down. There were several tables and chairs strewn across the floor. A large broadsword hung from the wall over the bar. It was chipped and almost broken, but the old man looked at it with a reverence one gave to the gods.

When we entered, a group called for Hannah from near the fireplace. They seemed like such a lively group; when we sat down they were singing an old folk song about the old country. There were thirteen of us: eight men and five women, gathered around the table, drinking and eating. The women all came from Chalbeck Castle where they practiced in secret near Gisim and protected the villagers from bandits. The men were hired hands from Suno in the Swadian Empire. They knew each other from one of the sword sisters' outreaches to the villages around Praven. Together, they were able to wrest the stranglehold a powerful gang had over Praven that not even the nobility could handle. They shared their tales. The hired hands traveled all over Calradia, seeking more work from the nobles who were busy with their enclosed circles and mistresses.

They started sharing jokes and I joined in with a few witty remarks. The time passed and our drinks waned. I got up, my legs feeling like liquid. I was on my way to the bar to ask for more ale when I fell on the waitress. She dropped her tray full of mugs on one of the patrons, a big man with a drunken ire.

He stood up and grabbed the collar of my shirt. "You, filthy peasant," he raised a fist and the next thing I knew was the taste of blood and the smell of the floor. There was screaming everywhere and a strong kick to my stomach.

"Stop it, you bastard," Hannah held him back. The big man struggled out of her hold and backhanded across her face. I was up on my feet and rammed the brute to the floor. I grabbed Hannah's arm and lifted her up. "Let's go."

"Right," I said as the guy stumbled back up. As we left the pub, the brute yelled curses at us. We stumbled around in a drunken stupor to the inn, yelling profanities at invisible enemies and laughing noisily. We weren't the only ones out doing the same. Booze flooded the streets of Tihr like a mighty river.

Several drunks sang folk songs at the steps to the inn and hackled others passing by to join in with them. We joined in; a disharmonious symphony of slurred words and forgotten lyrics filled the night before Hannah and I walked up the stairs noisily. I dropped like a dead weight on the bed and suddenly felt all of the day's fatigue wash over me. I heard Hannah drop on the other bed and felt her eyes on me. I flipped over and flashed a drunken smile and she lifted her leg, begging me to take off her boots.

Unbeknownst to me, she lured me into a trap. Once I helped her take off her boots, she grabbed my tunic and pulled me close. Her lips touched mine and I felt a flurry of emotions. I moved closer and the night ended with us in each other's arms.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

June 17

The crowd screamed for blood.

Huddled in the heavy armor provided by the tournament managers, I was stuck in a daze. The battle was about to begin, but I couldn't help but think about that night. The next morning, I found myself alone in the room. Hannah disappeared. Not even the innkeeper was sure where she went. "She just came down with all of her stuff, paid, and left," he told me.

At the arenas, I checked the listings for the fighters. She was still competing in the tournament; however, she was fighting in a different block than I did. There were about one-hundred-thirty fighters in the entire tournament. They scattered the fighters into four blocks of thirty-two. I was trapped in block B while Hannah's name fell under block C. I couldn't go see her, since the games played at the same time across the many arenas Tihr had.

A horn startled me and the three horsemen at my side flogged their horses into action. I had a sword and a shield given to me at random. Eight others had the same equipment while the rest were given crossbows or javelins. Everyone pushed me aside as they charged towards the enemy. There was a clash of swords and the neighing of a horse before I too started lurching forward. By the time I got there, three warriors had fallen on our side and a horse was running wild, trampling those who got in its way. I raised my shield and caught three bolts and an arrow before I met my first opponent.

He appeared to be a looter from around the snowy hills of Curaw who enjoyed waving his sword around. Not having much skill, he had a lot of openings. He charged at me without any regards to what was happening around him. I stood my ground and rammed him with my shield, throwing him on his back. I gave him a quick whack on the head with my wooden sword and he was out cold.

I looked up just in time to see a horse charging at me with full speed. I threw down my shield and jumped out of the way. The horseman kept going for the archers who were feverishly trying to knock him off the horse. They failed and one of the archers got trampled by the horse while another was struck by a spear.

I retook my shield and kept going towards the archers of the other team. Another guy joined me in the charge, but when I saw him again, he was riddled with arrows and bolts. Undaunted, I continued alone, although, my mind couldn't keep up with the battle, diverting itself to that night.

I fell upon two of the crossbowmen. One shot me in the back as I confronted his companion. The other threw up his arms in a futile attempt at deflecting my swing that knocked the wind out of his lungs as it struck his chest. He spun and dropped to the sand floor. He struggled to get back up, but I dealt him a "killing" blow to the back and he fell with a groan. The other had thrown down his crossbow and had attained himself a sword from a fallen foe.

He jabbed and poked at my defenses, trying to find a way through.

I also returned the attacks, but he jumped back or deflected the strikes. I stabbed straight and he ducked below, giving me a glancing blow to the knee. My leg gave way, and I was kneeling to the one who would end my chances at victory. He was about to smack my head, when an arrow pierced his side and threw off his balance. His blade fell short of my arm, and I shot up. My fist collided with his face with bone crushing strength and he fell over.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned around to see a member of my team. "Are you alright friend?"

"Yea," I replied, trying to get up. I felt my knees buckle and the guy held me up. There was a final struggle and the crowd roared. Victory was ours and only five of us remained standing to wave at the crowd and salute the king. Clerics and medics came into the field and carried the unconscious and wounded away. As we left the field, I asked him who he was.

"Me? I am a simple hunter from the hills of Elherdal. You can just call me Hunter," he smiled. There was something odd about this fellow, but I blamed it to my aversion of people from outside my village. "What about you?"

"I am Richter from Kulum."

"Well, Richter from Kulum, I hope we can become great friends." His arm supporting my weight, we trudged through the tunnels into the underground waiting lodges of the arena.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

June 23

High above the field of battle, on the balcony where King Ragnar and his vassals watched, a man dressed in light clothing took his place near the throne. He removed his sword belt and propped it up on his chair. King Ragnar had been paying attention to the games with avid attention, he didn't notice him. The lord cleared his throat to catch the king's attention.

Ragnar turned his attention and was surprised by whom he saw. Lord Aeric had been gone from the court for a few months, traveling the lands of the nomads and beyond the mountains. "Aeric! It's been so long. How did your travels fare?"

Ragnar called for a servant to bring Aeric some watered ale to quench his thirst. When the lord had his fill, the servant hurried away with the empty mug. "It wasn't as enlightening as I had hoped. The lands beyond the mountains are in disarray and not as prosperous as we had thought. What records and books they kept were fading and hardly readable.

"But, I did happen upon a mystic who is very wise in the history of this land," Lord Aeric leaned in closer and whispered the details of the mystic into the king's ear.

"Bah, I don't know why you are bothering with mystics and shamans," King Ragnar scowled, waving a hand in displeasure. "We have no need of them and their illusions."

"Your Majesty there is a hidden potential in this land that can give us the advantage we need over the Vaegirs and Swadians," he said. He leaned closer still. "The mystic told me many wondrous legends of heroes long dead who sealed away the power of the land in fear that others would use it to destroy Cal—"

"Perhaps, it is better that it remained sealed away," Ragnar yelled. His fury caught the attention of those around him who looked at the two with worried stares, but Lord Aeric pressed on.

"I have traveled throughout Calradia and have seen the nations preparing for war," Lord Aeric stated. "The Vaegirs are secretly in league with the Swadians. Both secure their borders against the possibility of attack. Everywhere, I see the forges burning day and night, arming the knights as well as the populace. We could be falling—"

"What? Falling behind? The nerve of you to accuse me of not paying any mind to our neighbors. I have been bolstering our forces with many warriors in our lands as well as those from the homeland." Ragnar turned back to the game. He rejoiced at the sight of two warriors throwing down their battered and useless weapons and charge at each other with only their fists.

"Weapons and men cannot compare with the power I speak of, sir," Aeric tried. Ragnar waved his arm in dismissal.

"Aeric," he began, "I am glad you are back with us again, but I don't want to speak of war. Not yet. I want to enjoy the sport of fighting without thinking of the consequence of death. As to what you are asking, I cannot condone such actions. There is no honor in holding such power."

_Fool,_ Aeric's thoughts screamed. His fingers curled into a fist, his nails digging deep into his palm. A moment later he calmed. _If he doesn't want this, then what is to stop me from obtaining it for myself?_ His lips contorted to a slight smile which he hid by dropping his head and covering his forehead. "You are completely right, my lord. There is no honor in it."

"It is good you see it the way I do," Ragnar laughed. He pointed towards the field where one of the two competitors struck the other with a fierce punch. The opponent dropped on to the sandy floor and didn't stand again. The crowd cheered with victory as the man raised his arms and reveled in his glory. "You should pay attention to the games. They are quite entertaining."

_Enjoy this pleasure while it lasts, my good king. _"It does seem very lively."

* * *

I raised my arms in triumph. This was the second opponent I defeated ever since the brawl at the start of the tournament. After that pit of confusion, the tournament continued with one on one duels. So far I've managed to hold my own against the fighters in my block, but I soon realized I was trapped with those who didn't have as much experience. We were separated by skill and although that gave me a slight chance of hope, I felt a little angry. I wanted to prove my worth and most of these opponents were not worth it.

I saluted King Ragnar, who nodded approvingly, and left the field.

"That was a great match Richter," cried a voice in the waiting room. Hunter wrapped an arm around my shoulders and dropped a mug of ale into my hands. I drank it down and wiped the fizz with the back of my hand. "Are you gonna stay and watch my fight? You know, learn about the competition." He elbowed me in the ribs.

"No, I'm going to the other arenas," I replied.

"Gonna try to find your girlfriend?" he smiled widely and slapped me in the back, on the spot where my opponent struck me with his sword.

"She is not my girlfriend," I retorted, shirking him off me. "I have a wife and three kids back in Kulum. What happened between us was a mistake? I just want to see her and apologize."

Hunter threw up his arms in defeat. "If that is what you want to do, go ahead." He turned around and started to leave. "I'll be around if ever you need something." He disappeared among the crowds like a mist in the middle of the day.

The other arena still held a game when I arrived. I flashed a tournament seal that proved my claim as a contestant to the guards and took to the seats to watch. The sun shone on the golden locks of a woman who lost her helmet in the middle of the fight and I recognized her. Her feet moved lightly across the floor, barely touching as though she was floating. Her sword flashed, whirled, and struck with precision.

But, her opponent was better, deflecting her attacks with deft movements of the wrist. I felt my heart lurch forward when his powerful strike tore the shield from her arm and threw her on her back. She laced her legs around his and tripped him, stood up, and held her sword to his face. The match was over.

I ran out of the stands to find the lobby for the fighters. The crowds thickened after the game for the food cooking on the grounds that I had to elbow my way through them. I saw the golden locks that majestically enthralled the crowds for a moment and reached out my hand to stop her. She looked back, directly into my eyes; a look of dismay and fear crossed her face.

Hannah turned back and tried to leave, but I kept a firm grip on her shoulder. "Hannah, let's talk," I yelled over the noise.

"There is nothing for us to say," she said with a scathing tone. She shrugged off my grip and sighed. "Richter, just leave me alone. Take care in the-"

"No! I won't let you leave until you hear what I have to say," I said to her, approaching closer.

"If you leave me no choice," she resigned, "but can we go speak somewhere more private?"

I nodded and she led the way. We separated from the busy corridors of the arena for the quiet park nearby. We stopped near a fountain and she turned to face me.

"I'm sorry," she bowed.

Her sudden apology made me hesitate for a moment. "Why are you apologizing? I am at fault for what happened."

"No, I led you to it," her face welled up with tears. "You are a great person, Richter, but I couldn't see you knowing what happened between us. I knew you had a wife in the village and yet I still…"

She turned away. I laid a hand on her shoulder and said, "It's alright. Let me worry about her. For now, you should worry about yourself and hold your own in the tournament. I saw you fight. I can say that I am impressed, although, I am not that good myself." She smiled.

"You do realize we might fight each other at some point and I won't go easy on you."

"I don't expect you to." We laughed.

For the rest of the afternoon, we stayed catching up. All the while, I was thinking of either telling my wife or not about my little infidelity. Her anger can match the fiercest tempest of the sea and last twice as long. I'll be living in the mountains for months before I can safely return home.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Sorry about the long wait, but I didn't know how to continue this and I was busy with school stuff. Anyways, here is chapter 5 and the tournament is soon coming a to a close. I have plans of beginning a part 2 that will span all of Calradia. Enjoy.

Chapter 5

The days droned forward as the second part of the tournament ended. Two competitors from each block progressed to the semi-finals. After one more fight, I was among them along with Hunter. Today, all of the winners gathered at the main arena where we will learn who is our next opponent.

Hunter and I appeared first to the glee and leers of the spectators. We bowed in humility to King Ragnar and stood at attention in the center of the ring. The next two victors entered the arena. Hannah and an old man strode through the arena, bowed to the king, and stood next to us. I stole a gaze at her; she flashed me a smile and a wink.

The next pair appeared and the crowd explodes. A big man came out waving his arms, challenging the frenzied crowd. His arrogant display continued into the flashy bow he made for the king of the Nords.

Lord Irya, marshal to King Ragnar's armies, stood beside the presumptuous oaf; his disgust for the disrespecting attitude of the man next to him was obvious on his face. The lord loved to test himself in these events. A sword hung at his side in case he needed to rise to his lord's aid.

The next two to appear were simple folk who managed to overcome the rest: a capable swordsman from the faraway desert sands and a peasant who proved himself very lucky.

With all of the fighters in one arena, the organizer of the tournament appeared. He bowed and asked Ragnar for silence. Ragnar raised his arms and the crowd died down. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen from all over. It has been an honor providing this reprieve from the mundane and as it nears the end, I am saddened that we would have to part, but, so is life, we will all meet again in due time." The organizer walked over to the competitors and spoke: "Here are your gladiators, my friends. From Kulum at the edge of the empire, I give you Richter!" The crowd cheered and clapped. I waved back at them out of embarrassment.

"From Chalbeck Castle, a swordsister who aids the weak, I present to you the beautiful Hannah!" The crowd cheered and whistled as she waved back.

"All the way from Halmar, he guards the great khan of the sands, Tahmur!" The crowds cheered, but there were boos mixed in as well.

"A lucky character from Gisim, he proved himself capable with an axe, Urik!" The crowds roared into excitement. They were inspired by this lowly figure… as was I.

"You know his name and you love him no matter where he is from, Krados!" Everyone stood to applaud and cheer at this amazing figure. I have heard various tales of how great this man was. To fight him would be a great honor worthy of telling my children even if I lose against him.

"He is our grand marshal and strategist, the beloved Lord Irya!" The people rooted for the man who will lead them to victory no matter who the enemy is. He saluted them and bowed to his king.

"He is a mysterious archer with an impeccable eye, Hunter!" He touched his fingertips to his lips and blew the crowd a kiss. After being around him for a few days, I've learned that he is quite the flatterer and won the hearts of the female crowd.

"He is a brute and doesn't like to fight fair, Fanel!" The big man raised his arms in a triumph and bated the crowd to cheer louder. When they died down, the organizer continued. "Now that you know you're heroes, here are your match-ups."

* * *

Soon after the introductions were made, we were back in the fighter's lobby waiting for the fights to start. Most of us were in here. Urik slept in the corner, a lumberjack's axe leaning against the wall at arm's reach. Tahmur was away as well as Lord Irya and Fanel.

A storm of words rushed out of Hunter's mouth as he flattered Hannah who crushingly defeated him at every turn with her own rebuttals. I, on the other hand, sat pensively. The next fight worried me as I was facing the guardsman from the desert. I haven't seen the man fight before, so this fight will be difficult.

But, as I planned my fight, the door swung open. Fanel, like a scorned demon, spotted me in my seat and charged. Time moved quickly as he grabbed my tunic's collar and hoisted me into the air. "You're the bastard who humiliated me at the pub," he roared into my face.

"What?" I tried to mutter, but as I got my bearings, Hunter slammed a chair at the back of his legs. He buckled and fell to the floor, taking me with him but releasing his grip. Hannah grabbed my shoulder and pulled me away. I looked around and noticed Urik was gone. I turned back to my attacker.

"Count your blessings peasant that you have friends to help you, but when we meet on the floor and you're by yourself, you'd best be prepared. You'd best be." Fanel left the room. We continued standing, watching the door in fear he will come back.

"What'd ya do to make 'im so angry?" Hunter asked as he settled back onto the couch.

"Nothing important," I replied, my voice trembling.

"What do you mean nothing important? He was about to kill you!" Hannah screamed into my ear.

"The lady be right, Richter of Kulum," he said, leaning forward.

"It's alright," I assured them. "This next time, he won't have the upper hand."

Heavy footfalls approached the door; cautiously, we waited. Lord Irya, in his majestic splendor, appeared and disparagingly glared at the three. "What happened here?"

* * *

Still shaken by the events from before, the sword in my hand quivered. Tahmur obnoxiously displayed his swordsmanship by spinning his blade and deftly waving it around. He was aware of my lack of technique. I was just a farmer (not even that!) and he was born into war. This was not going to be like the other battles I've fought.

The horn was blown and the fight begun. I witnessed the warrior give a howl like our ancestors when they charged into battle enraged, and he ran at my position without a care. I raised my shield, expecting a blade, and met his full weight as he drop kicked me to the floor. My shield was ripped from my arm and the sword flung far from my reach. I stood up as the crazed Khergit howled and came at me again with sword upraised.

I jumped to the side and tripped him with my legs. Getting back up, I retrieved the shield in time to meet another attack. His sword struck my shield with enough strength to shatter it. His relentless assaults were hurting my arms, but I couldn't accept defeat. Not when I'm so close to the prize.

Before he can recover from his last attack, I planted a foot on his chest and heaved. He went sprawling back as I got into action. I made a run for my sword, picked it up, and turned to the nomad. He was coming back, swinging his sword around with intimidating speed. I couldn't catch up to what he was up to, but, for a moment, I felt a clarity come over me. Everything seemed to slow down. I raised my blade.

Ching… ping… kling…

Every strike I parried without knowing how. An invisible hand guided my movements. I caught a glimpse of his worried look as I began to counter every move he made. Now, Tahmur was forced to fall back. Even though I had gained the upper hand, none of us were giving away any openings, but the looks on his face were favoring me. He was used to attacking, his footing was off. He tripped over his feet. He knew what mistake he made and accepted the dishonor, but he wasn't done yet.

Tahmur rolled away from me and was back up. He took up a predatory stance and started circling me. I kept my eyes on him, waiting for him to strike. My grip tightened as he came up behind me. I couple read his intent and saw what was coming.

The Khergit attacked my unprotected back, his blade gleaming as it caught the sun. I stepped to the side and his blade soared through. In my two hands, the sword fell on his neck. Were it real, his head would've been cleaved his head from his shoulders. Blunt as it was, he fell unconscious.

I do not know how I came to win this battle, but when realization finally came over me, the crowds were shouting my name.

* * *

The next fight brought Hannah and old Krados. Tales abound of the old fool's greatness despite his looks. Age has only brought him more experience that was deadly to the careers of professional fighters who dared to face him.

Hannah, undaunted by the reputation of the man she was facing, graced the field. She saluted her opponent in reverence of his skill and took her spot. Krados nodded in approval and crossed his arms. It was an awkward way to start a battle. I believed for a moment, that this man was drawn to the same prideful failing as many of us, but his mere presence controlled the field.

The horn blown and the fight began. Hannah chose a defensive posture while advancing slowly. Krados calmly walked forward without drawing his weapon. They stopped within feet of each other. Krados said something that was lost to the crowds' cheering. He dismally shook his head and drew his weapon. He made quick strikes at her shield, nothing threatening or powerful. He was poking for weaknesses and testing her as a teacher tests his pupil.

Hannah, not one to stay still, stabbed from behind her shield. Krados was forced back. He knew all that he needed to know about Hannah's strengths and was prepared to deliver his finishing blow. He charged forward, ducked under Hannah's swing, and tripped her with the flat side of his blade. He gripped the hilt with both hands and drove the point down—

Into the ground beside her head. Krados reached down and helped Hannah up. He laid a hand on her shoulder and spoke. They parted, Krados the victor.

I forced my way through to the base level of the arena and found her near the exit speaking to the organizer. Tears rolled down her cheeks as our eyes met. She softly smiled.

When the organizer left, I approached her. "Looks like we won't be able to fight each other," she said, wiping her tears with her hands.

"It is alright. We don't need the tournament for that," I told her.

"Aren't you going to watch Hunter's match?" she asked.

"No, I'm sure he will do alright."

She stared out to the city. "Do you know what I planned to do with the money if I had won?" I shook my head. "I was going to help build schools in some villages. I struck a deal with an engineer, but I still needed more money. I guess there's no helping it."

"Don't give up," I told her, grabbing her hand. "You still have Hunter and I fighting in this thing. If one of us wins, we can part some of the prize-"

"No, I couldn't do that to any of you," she interrupted.

"Also, cuz there's only one o' us in this," a voice said from behind us. Hunter, cradling an injured arm and wearing a bandage around his head, limped over to us. "I'm out. That lord o' yours is really good. You're gunna have trouble with these people."

"Hunter! Should you really be going around like that?" Hannah shouted. She eased him down to the bench.

"Thanks, Love, but it's only a flesh wound," he smiled. Then, he got serious and turned towards me. "That guy who called you out is fightin' next against the small boy from Gisim. You should watch it. He is your next opponent."

"Right," I said, "I'll come back."

Shoving my way through the crowd, I appeared at the stands and watched the debacle on the arena ground. The brute had thrown his weapons and charged forward unarmed. The boy grasped his axe in both hands and prepared to win an easy victory. If only that was the case.

As his weapon tore through the air, Fanel was already inside his swing. He grabbed the boy's hands with one hand. He balled the other and jammed his mailed fist into his opponent's stomach.

Urik, unable to handle the pain, released his weapon and passed out in Fanel's arms. The brute dropped the limp body and raised his arms to revel the in the cheers of the people. As he turned, our eyes locked and a cold feeling ran down my spine. He raised a thumb and drew it across his neck. At that moment, I didn't know what to think, but I knew I wasn't fighting any ordinary man.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

We met at a tavern called the Sea Wench after the arena for a few drinks. For the most part, we sat at our table in silence, drinking our ale with concern heavy on our minds. The fight between Urik and Falen frightened us… or at least me.

Hannah called for another round and we continued to sit there in solemn silence. All around us, people laughed and spoke. Some who recognized us as fighters introduced themselves and bade me luck in the fight. They didn't stay for long and moved on to their next cause for merriment.

Our silence was more stressful for the talkative Hunter. He downed his beer and slammed the mug on the table. "Damn it," he spat. "Why are we here mournin' as though our boy here was dead? We should be think' how we gunna beat this hulking brute."

"Hunter, please," Hannah said with a drooped head.

"No, fair miss, I ain't gunna be silent anymore." Hunter stood up and scanned the people in the tavern. He accosted a homely barmaid. "You, who do ya think will win the next fight?"

She shrugged him off and threateningly glared. "The brute, of course. Everyone here believes he will win. Now, if you don't need anything else, I have other duties to perform."

As she left, Hunter threw his arms in defeat. "I still think ya'll win if you get out of this mood."

"I agree," spoke an old man. He dragged a chair from another table and plopped down in front of us. He turned to Hunter and said: "Are you going to sit?"

"What do you want old fool?" Hunter sat and crossed his arms in contempt.

"Kradus! What are you doing here?" I asked him with respect. "Do you know Hunter?"

"Hunter? So that is what you are going by these days," he looked at Hunter with a fatherly remembrance. "Yes, I was his master. Taught him everything I knew; although, he wasn't so attentive then."

"Tell us more," Hannah pursued. "We haven't heard anything about Hunter. He likes to talk, but doesn't say anything about himself."

"Is that so? His past isn't one to be taken lightly and he never cared for people's pity." Hunter shifted in his chair and turned his back on us.

"Hunter, would you mind if we heard him?" I asked him.

"Do whatever you want?" he brooded.

"Do tell us, sir," Hannah begged. Her radiant smile drowned out the problems I had to face. A feeling struck my heart; a feeling I dreaded to feel.

The old swordsman laughed and spoke: "Alright, alright, I will tell you." He called the homely barmaid and asked for a drink. "I knew him since he was a babe, but not through happier means.

"His mother was a gypsy from Jelkala; the father, I do not know. I met her during my travels. She was being chased by ruffians who attacked her camp. To my knowledge, she was the only survivor. Hunter was less than a year old when she found me. Wounded as she was, it amazed me she had survived for so long. I gave her warmth from the cold night and treated her wounds the best I could. My efforts were all in vain. She did not last the night.

"Before her untimely end, she said to me, 'Take my son and treat him as your own. This, you will pledge and, even in death, I will hold against you.' I agreed to her terms, strange as they were, and she slept in as much peace as anyone can have. Now, I didn't know what to do with the babe, but I kept my promise.

"I could not continue my travel to Yalen for the tournament, and returned to my wife in Suno. Together with my grown children, we raised him. When he was old enough, I began to take him with me to the tournaments as I did my other sons and taught him the basics of weaponry. He was a quick study compared to my children, but couldn't handle a blade. It must've been in his mother's blood, but his fingers worked quickly when handling a bow.

"Now, I am primarily a swordsman, but I couldn't let this boy waste his talents focusing on something he wouldn't be great at. I hired a khergit to teach him how to fire properly and how to fight on horseback. You should've seen this boy challenge the king's professional archers. He humiliated a good lot of them.

"As he neared his adult years, he discovered how different he was from his brothers and left us for two years to find his roots. I don't know what happened as I didn't ask him when he came back."

"Why are you two here?" Hannah asked.

"For the excitement, of course," Kradus said. He placed a reassuring hand on Hunter's shoulder. "But, enough of the past, we have something else to worry about."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Sorry for the wait, but school got in the way and I suffer from a great deal of the dreaded writer's block. I am planning on revamping this story once I'm done to fix some parts and make it consistent. Thanks for reading and please review.

Chapter 7

"Fanel! Fanel! Fanel!" the crowd cried. They gathered like crows and buzzards waiting on a dying elk; their oppressing, eager eyes watching our every move. Armed with a shield and a sword I stepped up into their screaming revelry.

I gazed at the royal balcony where King Ragnar sat with the lovely queen and his vassals and offered my salute. Then I turned to the boasting beast that was my opponent. He cracked his fingers and loosened his neck muscles. "I'll give you a chance to live if you bow down and kiss my feet, dirty peasant. Come prostrate yourself before me and show the world who is the master!"

"Don't fool yourself, barbarian," I began. "It is you who will grovel for mercy when I am done with you." He doubled over in laughter. "What is so funny?"

"That your stupidity is immeasurable, mongrel." When he stopped laughing, he drew his war axe. "Enough talk, let blood be spilled!"

The herald tooted his horn and the crowd lurched forward in excitement. Fanel smiled a toothy grin and charged with the bloodlust of our ancestors. I raised my shield over my head and we collided like two champions in the heat of battle. My shield was almost wrenched from my hands, but I held firm and retaliated. He dodged my stab and a mailed fist smashed into my face. I stumbled back, shook the lingering headache, and raised my shield again to meet his next attack.

"You have the annoyance of a horsefly," he said when I deflected his next attack.

"My grandmother strikes harder than you." He jumped as I swiped at his knees. I rolled away as the axe head fell. I smacked him on the head with my shield and he threw a blow to my stomach. I pounded his back with the pummel of my blade and he'd hit me in the chin with his weapon's pole.

"You fight like a dairy farmer!" Fanel yelled as he swung his axe in a wide arc.

"How appropriate, you fight like a cow!" I yelled as I ducked under his swing and jabbed upward with my sword. He leaned back and my blade sang harmlessly through the air. He flipped me onto my back with a swift move of the axe's pole.

"You lie like my bitch," Fanel raised his axe.

"You shouldn't speak of your mother that way," I hooked my foot around his knee and brought him down.

We jumped back on our feet and eyed the other. I swung my blade for his head. He leaned back as the tip missed by a hair's length from his nose. I crashed into him with my shield; it knocked him off-balance and his weapon flew from his hand. I followed up with a stab.

Fanel grabbed my wrist and twisted it. My sword fell from my hand. "Now we're both out of weapons. Let's finish this as men," he said, releasing his grip.

I dropped my shield and massaged my bruised wrist. "This will be the end of that night, huh," I asked. He nodded and took up a stance.

"Come at me, unless you're too chicken to fight with your fists," he goaded. I neared him and dodged a few punches aimed at my head. He fended my first few punches, but I managed to hit him once on the chin.

Fanel ducked under my next punch, left shot my ribs, and followed with an elbow to the temple. My head ached from the shock and blood flowed freely from a cut on my head, but I couldn't give an inch. We moved closer still. I raised my arms and blocked his punches; I can still feel his mailed fists through the armor. I dropped under the reach of his next strike and gave him a glancing blow to the balls. Then I lifted my knee to meet his dropping chin and he fell on the floor.

"Son of a whore!" he spat. He tried to rise, but I planted a foot on his chest, pinning him to the ground. I punched him in the jaw and he passed out.

Victory was mine. I stood up and raised my arms in triumph to the astonished crowd. The mob that was once crying out the brute's name was silenced; then, slowly, they cheered my name. I reveled in their chanting and remained to watch the clerics take away Fanel's limp body before staggering to the exit.

I saw Hannah and Hunter with their happy faces waiting for me at the exit. I smiled at them and they rushed forward to catch me as I fell.

* * *

I awoke in the infirmary room with my muscles and head screaming in pain. My face was numb and I couldn't open my left eye. The pain increased as I tried to move and a groan escaped my lips when I stopped. I took a look around with my one good eye and saw that the room was still filled with warriors from the tournament. The king provided the care for no expense and the warriors took their time recovering and they had other pre-existing ailments checked by the physicians. Despite my feelings against him, I wondered if Fanel was lying in one of the cots in this room.

A nurse who stood over a patient in the cot in front of me came over with a bowl of water and checked the bandages covering my head. "Good morning fighter. Did you have a nice sleep?" she said as she dabbed my face with a wet cloth. The cold water was a relief from the stifling heat in the room.

"How long have I been away?" I asked with a strained voice.

"I'd say about a day." She placed the bowl on the ground and grabbed a mug from the table in the middle of the room. She poured some dubious liquid and came back. "Drink this, it will help you heal." The nurse set the mug to my lips and an odor of death wafted from the goop-like substance. Before I could protest, she forced the vile drink into my throat. She didn't relent until I finished it in one breath. It tasted worse than it smelled; I begged her for some water to relieve myself of the dreadful flavor it left behind, but she smiled and went away.

"Tasty, wasn't it?" a man said beside me. "I thought it was poison when that she-devil forced it on me."

"What sort of drink was that?" I asked him.

"It's some cure to pain concocted by the head doctor," he said. "Despite its smell and taste, it does work." He examined my face and a grin formed on his lips. "You're the boy who defeated the brute. That was a great battle, so I've been told. No one expected you to pull a stunt as you did, but they can't contest it."

"Speaking of the tournament, what has happened in the day I was gone?"

"Well, they've put the fights on recess for three days, but there are rumors that Krados will forfeit because of his heart." He paused to gaze at the nurse moving around the beds. "If that happens you would have to fight the lord and, God help you son, that man is a master of the sword. Talk among the people says that the fearless pirates around our lands avoid him like a demon."

He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "I envy you, son; that I do. You have great companions who worry about you." We locked gazes. "I'd give all the wealth in my lands for a person who I can depend upon rather than the ones I have now who seek to spoil my estates."

"I am sure you must have a few around you can depend upon," I pursued.

"You're a kind-hearted man, do you have a family back where you're from?" he asked.

"A wife and three boys I have," I responded.

"Do you all remain happy?" The old man's face grew more somber, but he maintained the grin.

"Though poor, we do keep up the pretense of enjoyment," I started, "but why do you ask? Aren't you happy as well?"

"I have wealth and power! Of course I am happy!" he shouted with a laugh. "I control my own estates and they produce me even more wealth and you ask if I am happy!"

Annoyed at being ridiculed, I spoke: "You do not have to rebuke me like that."

"You are right. You were only honest in asking," he charged. "If you want to know the truth, I do not know anymore. I now know that with age you begin to notice some things that hotheaded youngsters don't; and I don't know if I am happy or just delirious."

"What do you mean?"

"You wouldn't want to hear an old man such as me lecture," he looked away.

"It is alright with me," I refuted. "I am worse for wear and cannot leave this bed; arguing with a stranger wouldn't bother me in the least."

"Since you persist, I'll start," the old man spoke with a comforted tone. "It all began..."

* * *

Before too long, night stole away the day and the people gave themselves up to sleep. My companion, the old man who lay next to me, succumbed to the medicine the nurses gave him. They tried to give me more of the foul drink, but I resisted their attempts and they left without a second thought. I wanted this moment to be alone with my thoughts despite the pain.

Our talk got me wondering about my family back in Kulum and how they have been faring without me. My eldest son is probably disappearing into the woods with some of the village girls or hiding away from their fathers; the middle one busying himself with his books; and the young one still holding on to his mother like a babe.

I can already imagine the lot of them together in front of the small cottage when I returned. My wife will nag me to no end until she had retold and criticized everything that had happened while I was away. My sons will want me to tell them of my travels to Tihr and the people I've seen, and show them how to hold a sword and fight like their father. This pleasant respite stole me away and sleep suddenly came.

I woke up in the morning with voices hanging over my bed. I opened my eyes and saw Hannah and Hunter talking with my neighbor. "Friend, you must have slept very well to have woken up at this time," the old man said. At this, the two turned around and greeted me as one would to a friend they hasn't seen in a few years. Hannah embraced me in a tight grip and Hunter slapped me in the back.

"We'd thought you'd never wake up," Hunter laughed. The girl grimaced at his comment and left to talk to the nurse who just entered. When she was far enough away, he leaned close. "Too bad you're married, she cried all day wondering if you'd wake."

"Well, I don't want to repeat that night," I told him. "I'm going to have enough trouble with just that."

"It's you're loss," he shrugged as she came back.

"What is he losing?" she flaunted her beautiful smile.

"Nothing you need to be worried about, dear," the old man winked at the two of us.

"What do you mean?" she asked, growing worried. "What happened? Are you dying?"

I couldn't help but start laughing at her frantic worries and the other two joined me. Embarrassed at being the target of our joke, she blushed red and slapped Hunter and me. "Stop making fun of me!"

"It is hard not to," I said, rubbing my swollen cheek. She puffed up her red cheeks and stormed out of the room. We watched her leave and slam the door behind her.

"She is quite the catch, huh?" the old man whistled.

"That she is," I said. "That she is."


End file.
